


Petyr Baelish Imagines & Preferences

by ThePaceningIsUponUs



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fanfiction, Game of Thrones - Freeform, GoT, M/M, Multi, Other, Petyr Baelish - Freeform, Preferences, Requests, Smut, one shots, petyr baelish x reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-02-10 11:55:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18659932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePaceningIsUponUs/pseuds/ThePaceningIsUponUs
Summary: Hi there, I'm going to be taking imagines/preferences/one-shot requests for all things Petyr Baelish, my favourite slimy hoe. Hopefully this book will get more love than my wattpad version...





	1. Here You Are, My First GoT Ficpiece

**Author's Note:**

> First off-  
>  Just a quick mention that if I don't take a request I either am taking a long ass time to finish it or I'm just not comfortable with writing it. Also, I'm cool with the requests being things other than strictly Petyr x reader, and I'll do smut as well. (Come at me with any interactions you wish you'd seen between Petyr and any GoT characters) (I only tagged petyr/reader or whatever but I'll put more tags when I get a sense of what I'll be writing the most)
> 
> I'd like to point out that unlike every other imagines book I write the reader as gender neutral (always, in smut too), so if you're a dude or a nb person sick of only finding Petyr Baelish x Female Reader in every imagines book, you're in luck. (Speaking as a dude here, that's what made me decide to make this) 
> 
> OKAY-
> 
> So here's my first GoT thing ever. Hope you like it.
> 
> Petyr x Reader --> Petyr wants to keep your relationship a secret so no one can use it against him, and you are angry with him because it led to him publicly embarrassing you to throw off suspicion. There is light smut.
> 
> Please tell me if you think anything Petyr says/does in this is out of character, and if you think I'm writing any of this wrong or could do it better. Throw me some corrective criticism. Tell me your thoughts. Okay, here we go...

 

"I didn't mean to embarrass you."

 

Raising your brows lightly, you turn around turn to see Petyr standing before you. He, unsurprisingly, has come to win your forgiveness, and has even changed into a more suitable outfit to do so. Petyr knows what articles of clothing you like best on him, and has changed into them in a subtle effort to diffuse your soured emotions.

 

Hopefully he will creep away as quietly as he came in, and leave you alone. You address him with a side-eye, and return to your book. You are not ready to speak with him now, or frankly, anyone else. Petyr takes in a breath behind you.

 

"I only said what I said to protect us, [Y/N]. I had to do something to throw them off, to keep them away. I can't let them come between us."

 

You scoff, almost humored, and try to keep your focus on your pages. He continues.

 

"You know I mean this. I don't want anything to happen to you. Even the slightest chance, for someone to find a reason to hurt you, or take you away from me...I couldn't bear for that to happen."

 

Your skeptical smirk fades from your lips. Snapping your head, you give him a wounded glare, and stand up to face him, seeing your book down.

 

"You can't bear a chance for someone to take away your power. I don't mean a thing to you if public knowledge of 'us' means you might be threatened."

 

Petyr steps forward, arms stretching towards you.

 

"You mean the world to me. What I said out there doesn't change that. It was all lies."

 

"I mean nothing to you compared to a position you could hold. You're afraid I might be taken from you? You threw me away yourself when your status was threatened. Mocked and insulted me so cruelly in front of how many important figures in King's Landing? You call that protection? Of me? Of our relationship? Petyr, you were only protecting yourself. I am done putting your insecurity above myself. I have a right to protect my own status here as much as you do yours."

 

His face grows pale, and his mouth closes. For once, he seems to have nothing to say. He stares shamefully at the ground, not meeting your gaze. After a short pause, he glances upwards.

 

"I'm sorry. I didn't think it would turn out that way, I didn't have enough time to plan what to say. I couldn't say anything that would confirm Varys's comment. You know he is clever in implicating his suspicions in conversation. One wrong word and we'd have more than Varys questioning our relationship."

 

Moving closer Petyr clasps one of your hands in his, eyes pleading forgiveness.

 

"I didn't want to hurt you, not truly. I care for you. I didn't want them to know. We couldn't be happy if any of them knew. There are too many who can threaten us."

 

You look away from him, not wanting to believe he's being truthful. Petyr cups your face gently, regarding your hesitant glances back at him. His brow creases.

 

"Please believe me. I do care for you. Truly. I did it for us, not for me. I care about you."

 

You reply with a lightly poisonous tone.

 

"I never had a problem with keeping it secret, but you...you might have said something less biting. I'm not going to be able to go outside without hearing a snide comment for weeks. Especially from Varys. He'll still probably be frisking me for any sign of affection for you, no doubt, but not before making some remark on how I couldn't defend myself against your foul wit that you spit from your lips so often. You ought to keep them closed for now, lest I be forced to make some nasty calls on you."

 

His hands drop, along with his gaze.

 

"I know...I'll do all I can do redeem myself for you, [Y/N]. I'll make a subtle apology in front of all of them if you want me to, but we can't have anyone know how much I care for you. Or believe I like you, even in friendliness. You do understand?"

 

"You know I understand. Don't do this to me again, Petyr. It hurts me. It damages my place here. You know I wouldn't do that to you."

 

He approaches you again, moving to pull you against him.

 

"I love you,"

 

He whispers,

 

"Please, forgive me. I'm sorry."

 

After looking into his eyes for a moment, you decide to believe him, allowing him to pull your body to his. You nuzzle into Petyr, and he sighs with relief. You relax in each other's arms, eyes half closed. Holding you tightly to him, he kisses your forehead. Petyr gazes at you in his arms, entranced with adoration. He reaches his fingers up to caress your cheek.

 

"Oh, sweetling..."

 

His mouth meets yours softly, effortlessly coaxing a kiss. You lean forward, and lock your lips together, closing your eyes. You wrap your arms around his neck, taking in the minty taste of Petyr's lips. His hands reach up for your neck, your hair, the back of your head. Your lips move together smoother than Dornish waters. Your bodies become more and more heated with each passionate kiss you share. You groan into the warmth of eachothers mouths, biting, licking, sucking...

 

The flames of your desire have yet to be quenched.

 

As his lips brush your jawline, your body cries out for more of his touch. You begin to ache, craving the feel of his bare body against yours. Petyr whispers in your ear,

 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

 

And continues murmuring it quietly, kissing it into the curve of your jaw, down your throat, breathing it into the dip in your neck...You arch back, clutching him against you, sighing, as his tongue slowly trails on your skin and his lips close down, sucking lightly, making you shiver in anticipation for him.

 

"Oh, Petyr..."

 

He replies with a muffled mmh, and continues down, while his fingers focus on unclothing you. His moustache bristles against your skin, making you giggle quietly. Successfully undoing the opening on your top, he rips it open all the way, exposing you.

 

Petyr gets on his knees, and pulls your body to him, licking his way up your abdomen. He kisses your now bare chest, and bites the skin, leaving marks. You gasp, as he brings one of your nipples into his mouth, lapping at it with his warm, wet tongue, sucking gently. You groan aloud in pleasure, hands stroking the back of his neck. He comes back up to kiss your lips, and leads you by hand to your bed.

 

Laying back onto the blankets, you pull Petyr over you. You kiss each other ravenously, intoxicated with desire. You savor how your lips move together, synchronized in a heated frenzy. Tearing each other's clothes off, you take time to feel and kiss the exposed skin as you uncover it. Finally, both thoroughly naked, you can enjoy the feel of Petyr against you.

 

You kiss Petyr's collarbone, tracing his fading scar with your fingers. It begins just below your lips, goes down to his navel and curves with a slight flourish towards his hip. You think how Petyr got his scar is awful, and even more so how he has to live it; a hefty reminder of his failed attempt at winning his believed first love. At the beginning of your relationship together, he was hesitant to let you see the lengthy scar, and even less willing to allow you to touch it. You soon won him over though, and now you notice how he presses forward against your fingers.

 

You watch Petyr's pupils enlarge as he watches you shift downwards. It so happens now Petyr especially likes you to kiss his scar, and so you do just that. You start at the end, and revel in the way his breath catches as your lips touch his scar. You kiss the light-pink line gently, working your way up slowly, hands grasping his hips. You pause between kisses to lick the scar, making Petyr groan above you. You're a little more than half up when he stops you.

 

"Oh [Y/N], my sweet love, I do not deserve you. Let me please you, dear sweetling. I owe you as much."

 

You've never loved him more in this moment. He's never seemed more thankful of you than he does now, more caring or appreciative of your love for him. He lays down, taking you in his arms. Holding you tightly Petyr kisses you so sweetly you could cry. Striking your cheek, he gazes into your eyes.

 

"I am yours, [Y/N]. Whatever you wish that I can five to you now is yours. What do you wish of me?"

 

You glance at his lips.

 

"Use that feisty tongue of yours to redeem your words. I know you know how to use it. Lick me."

 

And then he places kisses to your lips once more, before trailing them all the way down to where you burn for him.

 

 

\- the end -


	2. Petyr x Reader Imagine - Cuddles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short Petyr x Reader fluff! You, bored and attention starved, need the Petey cuddles. Petyr is tired. You both get awkward and shy. Probably a bit cliché.

You lay with Petyr in bed, your head in his lap as you watch him daydream. His eyes aren't focused on nothing particular, he's just brooding - scheming, more like, and you want him to pay attention to you instead of his daydreamings. You shift around a little, hoping to rouse him aware of your presence. He does not move. You whisper to him.

 

"Petyr."

 

Nothing.

 

"Petyr."

 

Deeply entranced with the situation he's dreamt up, Petyr, once again, doesn't stir. You continue to just look at him, admiring him and his determined wall-studying. He could really make a sport of that. He's really cute from this angle somehow, even though you can totally stare up his nose. You sigh. Nuzzling upwards against Petyr, you enjoy the soft feel of his bedclothes, and his warmth.

 

"Petyr..."

 

You whine up at him, flipping onto your stomach,

 

"Hold me."

 

He (finally) glances at you, laying on his abdomen with your hands resting upon his chest.

 

"Give me a moment, love. I need to wrap up my thoughts."

 

His lips twitch briefly into a slight, utterly boyish smirk, and returns his gaze to the wall. That tease. Impatiently, you sigh loudly.

 

"Please...Petey?"

 

His cheeks flush at the use of his pet name. He gives you a small, tired smile, and shimmies down so you can cuddle up with him.

 

"Oh I can't refuse you, can I, [Y/N]?"

 

Petyr then leans in and kisses your forehead, catching your soothing scent. You wrap your arms around him, laying your head beside his. You stare at each other, and when it becomes clear neither of you have anything to say, you blush. Embarrassed smiles grow upon your lips and you both look away, only to keep glancing back at eachother, trying to decide what to say, or to say anything at all. You notice Petyr glances down at your lips, but doesn't make any moves towards you. He's...nervous. You are too. Shy, embarrassed, even.

 

But this is ridiculous, you're not a new couple at all. You've been together for months. This shouldn't be happening. You're just...casually trying to hold eachother. Cuddle. What's the big deal? Why can't you say anything? Why won't he just kiss you? Why won't you just kiss him?

 

Finally, Petyr opens his mouth, trying to stop smiling, and (after a pause) speaks.

 

"Well, [Y/N]...it appears I've...."

 

Licking his lips, he trails off, not being able to create a comment. He swallows, sighing, and touches your head.

 

"...have you done something new with your hair?"

 

You freeze in disbelief. What is happening to you and Petyr? Petyr, a clever, cool man,- a Lord - quick to charm and even quicker to quip, reduced to that of a blushing maid by merely gazing into his lover's eyes? And you, his partner, hardly feeling an ounce of awkwardness between the two of you since the beginning, not being able to even tease him about it? Ridiculous. And argumentive.

 

"N-no, I haven't..."

 

You stammer out,

 

"Have you?"

 

A beat passes before you both break out in a light fit of nervous giggles, red-faced and gleeful.

 

"This is so embarrassing,"

 

You pant,

 

"Why are we being so ridiculous, Petyr? Why is this so awkward?"

 

Petyr beams at you, knuckles lazily draped on his lips. His cheeks are red.

 

"I don't know. Maybe it's because of you. You...fill my head with clouds, as if I've taken milk of the poppy. I can never think clearly around you, [Y/N]. You are my joy, truly you are. I love you. Dearly."

 

Your heart soars high, and your face burns red. Heart fluttering, you gaze at him adoringly.

 

"Oh Petyr...I love you too."

 

You share a soft, sweet kiss. Petyr pulls you close, and you curl up in together. He strokes your cheek delicately, soothingly. You card your fingers through his hair. Whispering sweet nothings to one another, you fall asleep in eachothers arms, with smiles on your faces.

 

Newfound love feels quite magical.

 

 

∼


	3. Kissing Preferences - Petyr x Reader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna apologize beforehand for the weird shit you're gonna read when I talk about sexey things. You'll know what.

How he kisses you:

Normally, Petyr likes to kiss you softly, always being gentle when he initiates kisses, holding your face like it's your mother's china. Kisses are usually a bit teasing ones. Not that he won't kiss you roughly if you ask him to, he just prefers to give you slow, gentle kisses that show you how much he cares for you. When he's stressed he'll wait for you to initiate, and hold you close as you kiss him. If Petyr's very happy/excited, he'll kiss you more deeply, arms wrapped around your waist. Additionally, if he's in a shitty mood or you're fighting with eachother, he'll be less gentle and opt to bite your lips probably, and will definitely enjoy it if you fight him being dominant. (Petyr definitely likes a good fight once in a while, with bite as bad as the bark, you feel me?) 

 

{*screeches* Petyr Baelish has bratty sub energy! Top him! Dom him! Littlefinger is a switch!}

 

This kissing portion is getting long as shit but I'm not done yet. During the Sexey

Sessions, Petyr kisses you desperately, like you're his own special supply of Supreme Oxygen, tongue activated in expert mode. If he's jealous, he'll probably kiss you in a needy or teasing way, so you'll pay attention to him. If you have any questions on other ways he might kiss you, @ me in the comments. Alrighty lets move on.

 

Favorite places to kiss you:

Petyr's favorite places to kiss you are your forehead, neck/jaw, back, hips, lips...it doesn't really matter. He'll kiss you anywhere he finds you enjoy it most. (So he can hear your soft sighs and feel you grasp him. He lives to serve you...with his lips. 😏 😌)

 

\- Think of the cave scene with Ygritte and Jon. Oh yeah...he'd totally kiss you there. (haha) -

 

How he likes you to kiss him:

Petyr likes it when you kiss him deeply, so he can really feel you. Alternatively, light, quick kisses will make his knees go weak as well, and use your tongue. Petyr enjoys being licked. Kissing him isn't complete unless you're touching him somewhere (with your hands or whatever), so touch his neck, lean up against him, play with his hair, weave your leg around his, hold him like he's about to fall down. Petey needs the kiss touchies. Touch him.

 

Favorite places to be kissed:

The neck. Oh yes. Petyr will go weak when you kiss his neck in the right places. And the thighs, make sure to kiss those thighs before you go down on him. He's a basic white girl. Kiss the thighs. (I will not take this back, Petyr Baelish definitely wants his thighs kissed. Show him some thigh love.) And oh, if you've managed to get far enough with him to trust you completely, you must must must give his scar a kiss. Or ten. A bunch of slow, tiny kisses all up it would be lovely and he WILL pay you back happily. (Don't forget some tongue action with that) Finally, if you notice Petyr looking a bit pouty or grumpy, give that slimy man a good forehead kiss, and cuddle him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright if you're still with me here, this concludes my take on kissing preferences between Petyr and you. Feel free to request some more, with either you or another character and Petyr. 
> 
> Hope you liked this.


	4. Cersei Catches the Feelings™️ [Petyr x Cersei]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think of this one, and if you thought it was effective for both their characters. Quite obviously for this pairing Cersei will be a tad less narcissistic, for   
> Jaime Penis Envy Incest™️ reasons. I'll prob explain what I mean by this in the after notes. Also, please tell me if I mess up any of the titles. Okay, basically what the jist of this one is: Shit is going down (could be either during Joffrey or Tommen's rule I guess) and Cersei is stressed out about it, and in the heat of the moment loses her composure, that's sorta the set off, yeah, I'm looking for excuses to write Petyr x Cersei----
> 
> I'll shut up now.
> 
> Be prepared for a huge tangent of an analysis in the afternotes.
> 
>  
> 
> -

 

"...I believe it would be in your best interest if you had someone particular to protect you..."

 

She didn't want a bloody personal guard, she already had hundreds of other guards around her every day, why was he so focused on that? She needed a plan to fix everything, and she wished he would just tell her it instead of babbling random nonsense that involved her safety. Cersei slammed her cup down on the table, hands shaking.

 

"The only person I need right now is you!"

 

Cersei hadn't meant for that to come out, certainly at least not like that. Locking eyes with Lord Petyr for a silent moment, she brought her goblet to her lips awkwardly. It was poorly enough that she'd snapped at him so un-her-grace-like, let alone spoken so vulnerably like a stupid girl. She took a sip of wine.

 

—I don't concern myself like this with him. I am a Lannister, and not just any. Cersei Lannister.—

 

Cersei Lannister, Queen Regent, Her Grace, was not stupid, and most certainly no pathetic, blushing maiden. Especially not for some slimy, smirky little lowborn lord from the Fingers.

 

—Certainly not. I am just being far too much stressed. I must control myself. I am the Queen.—

 

Feeling the red flush in her cheeks, she straightened herself, pushing her shoulders back and lifting her chin so at least she looked more confident. Pushing a blonde lock fallen from her braids behind her ear, Cersei thought 'I will beat the servant wench who wove my braids so poorly', and inhaled sharply.

 

At least they hadn't been talking during a small council meeting.

 

"Lord Petyr,"

 

She spoke, failing to keep her eyes on his,

 

"I believe our planning time is running short. As Queen Regent of the Iron Throne and protector of the Seven Kingdoms you can imagine the stress that I am under at this moment."

 

She raised her eyes and studied his face, quickly. Lord Baelish, nay - Littlefinger - seemed as sure as he always did, mostly. Except for the bit of shock she'd seen on his face, he looked as per usual. Hands folded in front of him. Cunning. Approachable. Cersei raked her gaze over him, resisting the ridiculous urge to wet her lips.

 

—Handsome.—

 

Petyr swallowed, watching her glance at his lips repeatedly, and then his eyes were the ones being shifty. He took in a breath, lips slightly parted.

 

"Of course."

 

Cersei watched how his mouth moved as he talked, tilting her head to the side.

 

—The things he could do with that mouth, I wonder... No, do not wonder. He is nothing. He is your servant. Ask him about something, anything.—

 

"What was it you were suggesting? Pardon my interruption, Lord Baelish, and I'm afraid the stress of recent events is...having effect on me. Please continue with your consul."

 

And of course he did what she found so irritatingly lovely. The thing that sent her heartbeat going faster than a raven's wings aflutter and challenged her perfectly held Queen Face.

 

He just smiled.

 

"Of course. Your Grace, I was suggesting that you take a personal guard, for your protection."

 

Her heart melted at the sincerity of the words, though she'd never admit it to herself. She scoffed.

 

"I do not need a personal guard, my lord. There are hundreds upon hundreds already, all here for the protection of our people, and myself. Do not fret upon me as if I am a babe. You are dismissed, I thank you for your advice."

 

But Lord Petyr did not make move to leave, instead he came forward, approaching her.

 

"...Your Grace, I believe you said you are stressed?"

 

Cersei's heart pounded.

 

"So I did."

 

Petyr's green eyes flashed with something unlordly as he suggested,

 

"If there was anything to be done, that I could for you, I would be happy to comply."

 

Cersei felt a stirring low inside her, an ache. She did not stop herself this time, when she felt the urge to wet her lips.

 

"I am most interested, Lord Petyr, did you have something in mind?"

 

"I did,"

 

Petyr replied, looking at her lips,

 

"But I am here to serve you,"

 

He continued, staring directly into her eyes,

 

"So I insist you direct my actions..."

 

A smile grew upon her lips as he came close, whispering into her ear;

 

"...Your Grace."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -
> 
> Book!Petyr + Book!Cersei is my new powership 
> 
> Observe:  
> [Page 231, A Clash Of Kings]
> 
> ' Cersei smiled the sort of smile she customarily reserved for Jaime. "Lord Petyr, you are a wicked creature."
> 
> "Thank you, Your Grace." '
> 
>  
> 
> I don't think there's actually anything hugely significant about noting how Cersei specifically smiles at him like she does Jaime, but I like it all the same. I do think that if Cersei wasn't so narcissistic to the point of only being able to enjoy sex with Jaime, she and Petyr would most definitely team up, if not probably become a very powerful couple. They're both selfish people, but most people want to be loved, right? Who better to love if your selfish than someone who thinks alike? [bonus if they know how to play their cards]
> 
> I don't really take this as a flirty compliment. What I take from this is at the moment, she's probably admiring Petyr's perceived likeness to herself, and that's it. (Maybe not straight up, but at least subconsciously that's probably why) 
> 
> Cersei, (a narcissist, and his superior) taking a moment to genuinely compliment his cleverness in this scene, is because not only is his plan he suggests beneficial to her, it's something she's like to do herself. Or it was just a filler exchange and means nothing. Whatever. Cersei's just glad to have the wheels turning her way.
> 
> K I'm done my analysis for this. Is Baesei a good ship name for these two, or is there already a better name?
> 
> Okay, I'll explain what I meant by "Jaime Penis Envy Incest™️". Cersei hates that she was born a woman. Westeros is a sexist, misogynistic place, and Cersei knows it. It's mentioned in the books about how jealous she was of Jaime's childhood compared to hers, and you can see she wishes that she were born as him. Besides their bonding of being twins, Jaime is the most important thing to her not because she loves him, but can use him without feeling remorseful about it. Cersei herself might believe she loves Jaime, but in truth she just loves the idea of what he is to her: an image of what she wishes she could be, and someone she can use to her own advantage. She is so much of a narcissist she is only sexually attracted to Jaime, because he resembles her. It's a one sided, abusive (and gross) relationship.
> 
> In other news, fans who've read the books, have you noticed how the TV writers did our boy dirty turning him into "Lord Littlecreep who doesn't have any friends and everyone doesn't trust him" ? TV Baelish (seasons 1-4) was still amazing, captured most of his complex character, and Aidan Gillen nailed the role he was given, (I don't know how he managed doing seasons 5-7 so well, with the writing for Petyr going completely shit and out of character) but Show!Petyr is totally TV villanized and different from Book!Petyr. Reading the books made me realize that a lot. Feel free to discuss that with me in the comments. Also, go ahead and request some stuff if you want, I'm up for some stuff.


	5. Journey to the Fingers (Twin au, with Sansa!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bruh. I'm seriously considering turning this into it's own story, but knowing me it'll prob end up unfinished. I'll consider it. Expect maybe 3 parts for this one. 
> 
> Basically: an AU fic where Petyr takes Sansa to the Fingers, where it is discovered he has a twin, whom Sansa falls in love with. I promise they won't bone a minute after meeting eachother. Okie. Thanks (you know whomst you are, you lovely person) for the request. 
> 
> 🖤
> 
> Finally, if Petyr's father was a very minor Lord, should Sansa refer to Petyr's brother as 'my lord' or what? Does he have a title?

Sansa knew they were getting close now, though she couldn't see much ahead. Surely when Petyr had told her of his "small inheritance" she was to stay at, he hadn't meant the small stone home ahead. Hardly larger than forge at Winterfell, it stood unimpressive and drab, with a barn and an other separate building beside it. It was tiny, and nothing like the Eyrie or Winterfell at all. She looked to Petyr, watching how he gazed at it.

-Why is he studying it so intently, would that really be it? Is that where he has chosen to take me?

Sansa toyed the reigns in her grasp, drawing a breath. 

"Lord Baelish?"

Quickly as always, his sharp gaze flashed to her. His mockingbird pin glinted in the sunlight as he shifted.

"Sansa."

Sansa glanced back at the house for a second.

"Is that...where we are going?"

He must have sensed her disappointment, as she saw Petyr's cheeks redden slightly, and realized that it was. She felt embarrassed for a moment for asking, and her own cheeks reddened as well. She saved herself quickly.

"It looks cozy. Do you remember much of your childhood here?"

Petyr smiled wistfully at her, turning his head back towards his old home.

"No. I don't remember much of that time or here at all, except that it was never lacking sheep. It appears that I am still correct in that."

He was. Sheep covered much of the area, and from above you might have thought it was peppered with snow. He sighed.

"I am aware of what a 'grand place' to stay it is here, Sansa. I hope you can stay comfortable until the new buildings are constructed. You will have more room then."

Lord Baelish was building more property here, for her? Sansa felt pleased at the gesture, but couldn't help but wonder if that meant she'd have to stay for quite a time.

"Thank you...Petyr. I'm sure I will be very comfortable."

That seemed to make him happier. He wore a smile, and turned to her. 

"I had forgotten quite how small it was here. If you can imagine, surprisingly, it used to seem bigger,"

He chuckled,

"But not by very much."

Sansa smiled politely at him.

"I remember now. You were a small little boy then, like Robin, weren't you?"

"I was. That and this-"

He gestured to their surroundings,

"Is how 'Littlefinger' was made. Though I dislike the title."

Sansa nodded, remembering when Arya had asked why people called him that. A twinge of sadness went through her. -Arya. She missed her sister. 

Petyr stopped his horse. They had arrived. After dismounting, Petyr offered Sansa his hand. Stepping down, her braids shone brilliantly in the sun. It might not be bad, she decided, there was sun here in the Fingers and the air was fresh. It wasn't as muggy and overheated as King's Landing.

Her heart fluttered.

-I'm even further from Cersei.

Sansa was glad to be even further from King's Landing, and relieved to leave the Eyrie and the ever clingy Robin. She had reached her nineteenth name day in the months past, and wanted some space from the boy. She was a lady, and a grown woman, and needn't be his nurse. Even two and a half years later, he clung to her endlessly since Lysa had died.

"You've arrived!"

A voice dissipated her thoughts. Sansa turned to see a familiar face in front of the stone mill, and her brows furrowed in confusion. The man stood at the door, wearing the clothes of a common man...and the face of Petyr Baelish. She looked to her side. Her Petyr was right there. Who was that? Sansa turned to the Lord beside her.

"Lord Baelish?"

He gave her a small glace, and returned his gaze to the lookalike, outstretching his arms.

"Brother!"

He called,

"It's been too long."

Sansa stood in confusion. Lord Baelish had a brother? Petyr put a hand on her shoulder, leading her up to the door.

"Come, Sansa. Meet Aelyn, my twin brother."

She stared at him in shock, speechless. Twin? Aelyn bowed his head. 

"Greetings, Lady Sansa. I am honored to have you as my guest."

Sansa tilted her head to the side, taking in a breath. He was, physically, identical to the man that stood beside her. Aelyn Baelish stood at the same height as his brother, with a quirky smile. He was clean-shaven, with hair not so neatly combed as Petyr's, that had slight curls in small ringlets of dark brown. His voice was not as rough as Petyr's either, and he spoke softer. Sansa thought he didn't look quite old enough to be Petyr's twin. Petyr had to be in his thirties, and Aelyn's face didn't seem as lined as his brother's did. She nodded respectively, still staring at the man. 

"Thank you, my lord Aelyn. I'm sure I will enjoy my time here."

The corners of his lips raised lightly, as did hers when he replied,

"I'm sure you will, milady."

As she entered the building, behind her Petyr clasped Aelyn on the shoulder, and they begun to talk amiably with each other. Sansa took no notice to listen to them speak, and instead tried to focus on the surroundings, sorting out her thoughts.

There were a couple chairs and a table, seated beside a small fire in the corner. A stairway led up to what Sansa assumed were the bedrooms. She wondered how many there were. For a moment Sansa tried to convince herself to be happy. Petyr was keeping her safe by bringing her here, and she shouldn't be upset because the area wasn't what she was used to. At least he was going to add on to it. A hand touched her wrist. Petyr's.

"Aelyn will show you to your quarters. I will be back tomorrow."

"Where are you going?"

Petyr smiled at her, brushing his thumb across the back of her hand.

"To get you some maids, sweetling. I don't expect a lady like yourself to live completely like a commoner. I'm bringing them back here along with the builders, and the rest of our luggage. Alyn will take care of you."

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. Sansa nodded, feigning a smile. Something uncomfortable stirred in her when he kissed her hand. Or her cheek. Or her forehead. Sansa felt a bit awkward when he kissed her at all. He had been in love with her mother after all, and had married her aunt. Not that he loved her. He'd told that true enough when he flung her out the moon door, proclaiming,

"I have only loved one woman, my entire life. Your sister."

She might allow herself to feel flattered, and show that to Petyr, if he didn't love her mother, and wasn't technically her uncle. She cared for him, though. She cared for Petyr more than she thought. She cared for him more than Robin, but perhaps that was because her feelings for the boy were rooted in pity. Petyr was her protecter, he kept her safe. And he was her teacher, giving her knowledge on how to strive in the world and move past her enemies. He was also her friend, her only true friend. She would always love him for that. As he left, Sansa called out to him.

"Thank you, Lord Baelish."

He turned back to her, smiling.

"Anything for you. Sansa, call me Petyr."

She nodded. Petyr looked at her for a moment, and left. Sansa exhaled. She wished he didn't gaze at her like that so often. Aelyn shuffled up next to her.

"Would you like to see your room?"

Sansa turned to meet his eyes.

"Of course."

Upon climbing the stairs, Sansa was led into the second of four medium sized rooms.

"I know it isn't much,"

Aelyn admitted, smiling at her lightly. Sansa smiled politely at him. 

"I'm sure it will do wonderfully, my lord."

"You're very welcome. Before you traveled here, my brother gifted me some servants. Should you need anything, just ask, and they will get it. I'm afraid they are not here as of yet; I sent them off to the market. I will be downstairs, Lady Sansa. Make yourself comfortable."

Sansa took a look at her new room. It was decently sized for the house as small as it was, with a soft looking bed, a tub off to the side, and a mirror hanging on the stone wall. She supposed it was all she'd need. 

"Thank you, I will.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, do you think Petyr is telling the truth? Does he really love you? Tell me your thoughts and feelings on this imagine, and go shoot me some requests in the comments.
> 
> :)


End file.
